


Liaison

by Mijan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Love Triangle, M/M, Masturbation, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-27
Updated: 2012-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-30 05:17:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mijan/pseuds/Mijan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco returns to Hogwarts on a business assignment and comes nose-to-nose with a piece of the past he'd been avoiding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liaison

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a gift-fic for painless_j in gratitude for her efforts in compiling a thematic list for me. She wanted a HP/DM/SS dynamic/love-triangle, not too dark or hardcore, with a threesome, voyeurism, masturbation, and a generally happy ending. Here's the result!

 

  
It hadn’t been an assignment he’d requested, but when the Potions Research Committee at the Ministry was asked to send a specialist to Hogwarts to teach a series of classes on potions warfare in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Draco Malfoy couldn’t refuse. In fact, he started packing his travel bag before the assignment letter even appeared on his desk. Who else would they send? There was no better expert in potion warfare in all of Britain, and Draco was actually quite sure they’d specifically had him in mind when the request had been written.  
  
Of course, this assignment would bring him back in contact with the one person he’d been avoiding for almost two years.  
  
After Harry had saved his life during a Death Eater attack in Hogsmeade during autumn of his seventh year, he’d thrown his lot in with Harry. Not so much against Voldemort at first as _with_ Harry. Soon thereafter, he’d found himself in a position to repay his old nemesis when he’d cracked the curse-potion that Voldemort had used on Harry. That little stunt had impressed enough people, and his innate talent for experimental potions had left him in high demand by the Resistance, as he called it. It was fine with him. Potions fascinated him, so he studied it easily. Working behind the scenes with Severus Snape, he’d been invaluable to the war effort.  
  
And all the while, he’d watched Harry.  
  
Draco would brew an antidote; a week later, Harry would need it. Harry would come back from a mission cursed; Draco would find a way to neutralize the curse. Sometimes, it felt like Harry was the hand holding the sword, and Draco was the heart that kept blood flowing to that hand. Draco found himself experimenting with potions and antidotes designed to work specifically with Harry’s magic, and after a while, he became the standing expert on personalized potions, poisons, and antidotes. Of course, while doing it, he had to become very close to Harry, and in that time, he found himself falling for his long-time rival.  
  
Harry radiated power, but comparing Harry’s magic to anyone else’s was like comparing sunlight to a candle, and Draco was drawn to it. He’d always been drawn to it – to Harry – but as Draco had delved deeper into his work with Harry, things had changed. It was an obsession. It was intoxication. It was also something Draco had _never_ mentioned directly to Harry. They had a friendship, and a professional relationship, and Draco was sure Harry wouldn’t want anything more than that. Even though he’d never seen Harry dating a woman, Harry was straight. He had to be. Too bloody pure to be anything else... not that Draco would be averse to applying a little tarnish to Harry’s Golden-Boy shine.  
  
Draco had jerked himself off countless times to mental images of Harry, sprawled and sweating, still half-dressed, as though Draco couldn’t wait to finish unwrapping his prize before plunging into him. Trousers around Harry’s ankles, restricting him as he squirmed, with the tops of his socks visible over his shins. Arms pinned over his head – tying him up would take too long. If Draco ever got him in that position, he knew he wouldn’t be able to wait for anything. He was never sure if he would want to take Harry himself, or have Harry take him from underneath, as long as Harry knew that Draco _wanted_ him. Wanted all of him. Wanted to touch the magic inside him. Wanted to _be_ inside him.  
  
It was then that Draco found himself short of breath, his fingers strangling the rolled pair of socks he’d meant to place in his travel bag. And then he also realized he was almost painfully hard. With a mental groan, he dropped his socks into his bag and thrust hand into his trousers and squeezed. There was no way he could think himself out of this erection.  
  
Three minutes and a cleaning charm later, Draco resumed packing. He’d have to control himself. He valued Harry too much as a friend, no matter how many times the little voice in the back of his mind – and the other one in the front of his boxers – insisted that Harry would be more valuable in other venues.  
  
Draco switched off that train of thought. In an hour, he’d be meeting Hogwarts' new DADA professor, and he didn’t need to have his mind on such things in a professional situation.  
  
*********  
  
  
Draco dusted off his travel robes as he stepped out of the Floo, and looked up to see a disconcertingly familiar face.  
  
“I never understood how people could remain on their feet in the Floo,” Harry said, shaking his head but grinning.  
  
“Harry... nice to see you again,” Draco said evenly, although inside, he was shaking. If anything, his fixation on Harry had become worse in his absence.  
  
“Draco,” Harry replied, extending his hand in a very formal gesture. The formality of it only caused Draco to shiver more. “It looks like the past year has been good to you.”  
  
“Yes, well, sleeping eight hours a night and not worrying about a war will do that.” Draco accepted Harry’s hand, but his mouth was already going dry. How was he going to manage working with Harry every day? Then he realized he should return the compliment. “You’re looking good... I mean, well. You look like you’re doing pretty well.” _Oh Merlin, shoot me now._  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow and smiled. “You must be tired from your trip. There’s a carriage waiting for us at the edge of town. Dumbledore suggested that I show you to your rooms... if you’ll come with me?”  
  
 _Well, I’d like to see you come first._ Draco couldn’t stop the thought from drifting through his mind. What he said was, “Sure.”  
  
As they stepped outside of the Floo hub in Hogsmeade, Draco took a moment to look around. There was Honeyduke’s, and there was the Three Broomsticks, and over to the left of the apothecary was the alley into which Harry had thrown him a split second before a stray curse had struck Harry. The curse that _should_ have hit Draco, but had almost killed Harry instead. _Bloody Gryffindor._  
  
“You all right, Draco?” Harry asked. “You look a bit lost.”  
  
Draco sighed. “Not lost. Just... coming home.” He glanced back at Harry and grinned. “So... how are you liking the DADA position?”  
  
Harry nodded with a laugh as he started walking. “It’s like coming home.”  
  
“I’m glad.” Draco shifted his bag to his other shoulder. “So, why did you request me?”  
  
“Well, I think that would be obvious,” Harry said in what seemed like a confidential tone.  
  
“Oh?” Draco felt his stomach flip.  
  
“I started thinking about how many times you saved my life... and all the things you did during the war.” He shook his head. “People saw my name in the Prophet, but I knew you were the reason I was alive to read it.”  
  
“Yeah?” Draco asked, praying his voice didn’t squeak.  
  
“Yeah,” Harry said, with a soft smile. “So... I figured...”  
  
“Yes?” Draco was trying not to sound too eager.  
  
“I figured that you’d be the perfect person to show the students that Defense isn’t just flashy shielding spells, protective charms, and _constant vigilance_.” He chuckled. “I wanted them to know that defense is also cures, antidotes, and time-consuming preparations.”  
  
“Ah,” Draco said amiably, but underneath, he felt something deflate. _That’s what I get for getting ahead of myself._ He should have known that Harry only had the most innocent of motives for seeing him. “Well, you know I’m glad to help when I can.”  
  
“You always were. And Draco...?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“I missed you, too. Ah! There’s our carriage.” Harry gestured ahead of them. And behind the carriage, up in the distance, Hogwarts silhouetted the afternoon sky.

*********

  
“So, what have I managed to cram into your stuffy little brains today?” Draco asked as he surveyed the large group of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff fourth-years he’d been trying to teach for the past hour.  
  
One small boy with mousey brown hair raised his hand. “Sir... we should know that just because something is safe for one person, it might not be safe for somebody else.”  
  
Draco kept his satisfaction with the answer to himself. “Would you kindly give an example?” he asked sternly.  
  
The boy faltered. “Er... like a book. Or something that a lot of people might pick up, but it carries a curse that only affects one person.”  
  
At that, Draco felt a flash of irritation. He’d spent most of the hour talking about person-specific potions and poisons, and the first thing the students thought of were curses. He’d spent less than five minutes comparing the potions to individualized curses. Now he understood how his own professors must have felt.  
  
“Mr... Stanton, is it?” Draco growled. “Yes, there are individualized curses, but we happen to be focusing on _potions_ today, or did you miss that fact?”  
  
There was a cough from the back of the classroom, and Draco glanced up to see Harry – _er... Professor Potter_ – standing there, arms folded, with a stern glare of disapproval. It was all Draco could do not to roll his eyes. Harry had a _thing_ about teaching with kindness – a notion that seemed particularly out of place in a Defense class. But, it was Harry’s class. “Mr Stanton,” he began again, “perhaps you could tell the class one of the three major ways in which a poison could be individualized for a specific target?”  
  
As the boy began explaining how ingredients might be aligned with a person’s astrological chart, Draco looked back at Harry. Harry gave him a thin smile, and a look that said clearly, _Some things never change._  
  
The class wrapped up, students were dismissed, and as soon as the last one disappeared, Draco sat down heavily behind the professor’s desk. “Merlin, Harry, I don’t know how you do it!”  
  
Harry laughed as he strolled casually to the front of the classroom, arms still folded across his chest. Under his basic open teaching robe, he wore standard dueling garb, which was supposed to make it easier for him to move when he taught the dueling and fighting techniques he often demonstrated. At least, that’s how he’d explained it that morning when Draco had looked him up and down once and gave him a sharp, questioning glare. However, the dark dragon-suede chaps, loose-fitting shirt, and the (currently) unbuttoned vest also made it much easier for Draco to take notice of him, regardless of whether or not he wanted to be so distracted.  
  
 _Can he please button that vest before I jump him in the middle of a class?_ Draco was so busy trying to avert his eyes from Harry’s hips that he hardly realized the man was speaking to him.  
  
“I don’t know how I could _not_ do it! It’s just like when I was running the DA, except this time, I get a pay cheque, and I don’t have to worry about frog-faced Inquisitors catching me.” He laughed lightly; obviously the memory didn’t bother him anymore. “Or blond-haired Slytherin gits.”  
  
Draco scowled.  
  
Harry just shook his head, grabbed the nearest student chair, spun it around and straddled it. His eyes drifted to the window. “I help with the Quidditch program too. I’d thought about the offer to join the Manchester Monarchs, but I wanted to get away from the public eye. Being here, at least I get up on a broomstick often enough.”  
  
Draco, for his part, was grateful this has robes were loose enough to hide his crotch. _How the fuck am I going to teach the next class? Straddling... broomstick..._ He reminded himself desperately that the first-year Slytherins and Gryffindors were next, and that he had to be professional, but how could he do that now? Harry was sitting so casually, but that only made the effect even more distracting.  
  
 _Does he have any idea how well those trousers fit him? Merlin, maybe he is gay... he’s dressed well enough... Who the hell am I kidding? They’re just very standard dueling clothes. They just happen to be draped on a very above-standard body. A very straight, uninterested, above-standard body._  
  
Before Harry looked back, Draco had set his face with the most impassive expression he could muster. “Boys and their broomsticks. My, my, Potter.”  
  
Strangely, Harry blushed. This piqued Draco’s curiosity. “Now, don’t tell me that Mr. Bachelor himself has finally started to see some action?”  
  
Harry blushed harder.  
  
Outwardly, Draco smirked. Inwardly, he felt a queasy spinning in his stomach. Not terrible, but definitely noticeable. “Found yourself some supple young witch who has loved your eyes ever since you were voted Most Eligible Wizard by Witch Weekly?”  
  
“Well, no...” Harry answered, but the red flush in his cheeks had spread to his ears.  
  
“Oh my, Harry has a girlfriend!” The tone was a friendly shade of 'fiendishly delighted', but in reality, Draco’s disappointment went straight to his stomach, and then to his softening cock.  
  
“Not a girlfriend,” Harry muttered. “Just someone I’m sorta... seeing casually.”  
  
Draco leaned forward with a wicked glint in his eye. “Fuck buddies, you mean?”  
  
By now, Harry was blushing so hard, it looked like he had a sunburn.  
  
“Harry, I do believe you’re in no state to sit in on the next class.” Draco stretched out in the chair and put his feet up on the desk, doing his damnedest to look like he hardly cared. “The students will think you’re ill.”  
  
The redness didn’t fade, but Harry still managed to shoot Draco a skeptical look.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. “I promise I won’t terrorize your first-years.”  
  
Harry stood and twisted the chair back towards its desk in one smooth movement. “You learned far too much from Severus.”  
  
“You bet your arse. Wise man. You could learn a lot from him.”  
  
Harry mumbled something unintelligible, and turned to leave.  
  
The sight of his retreating back sparked something in Draco. He removed his feet from the desk and barely managed to keep himself from standing up. _Don’t seem to eager._ “Harry?”  
  
The dark head stopped and glanced back over his shoulder. “Yes?”  
  
“This is the last class for the day and all... I was wondering if you wanted to go into Hogsmeade with me. You know, spend some time, catch up on things.”  
  
For a second, it looked like Harry was going to agree, but then he shook his head. “I can’t, Draco. I have to mark a bunch of essays.”  
  
“Oh,” Draco said, trying not to sound disappointed. “Well, maybe sometime later, then.”  
  
Harry smiled. “Definitely.” He walked out the door just as the first young Slytherin pushed his way into the classroom.  
  
Draco sighed as the students started to arrive in droves. It wasn’t that he hated children. There was just so much of it he could take. Again, he thanked his lucky stars he was gay.

*********

Drunk. It was 7:00 pm, and Draco was drunk. It was only 7:00 pm, it was a school night, he had to teach in the morning, and he was drunk.  
  
What had started as one snifter of brandy after dinner had turned into several as Draco tried to forget that a couple of floors above this one, in a room probably not unlike his own, Harry was sitting, grading papers. Or maybe he was wanking off. Or maybe he was fucking that mystery witch.  
  
Draco downed the last swallow of his brandy. It wasn’t as if there’d been any promise, or even a suggestion, of things he’d wished would happen. He hadn’t really even expected to get anywhere with Harry. That didn’t stop him from being disappointed. And now, he was disappointed, frustrated, horny, and drunk. Yes, drunk.  
  
The clock on the mantle ticked louder than he thought was decent. He stared at it, swirling his empty glass. Another brandy would leave him far too inebriated to teach properly in the morning, but he wasn’t ready to go to bed. Well, yes he was, but it wasn’t his own bed he had in mind.  
  
This was asinine. He needed to talk to someone. He needed to get this off his chest. And there was only one person in the school he could talk to.  
  
Near the end of Draco’s seventh year, he had become confidants with his old head-of-house. They were two Slytherins fighting the Dark Lord, trying to keep up appearances, with very few people who could truly understand their predicament. It was the height of the war, and there were very few comforts anyone had. While Draco and Harry had a closeness, Draco and Severus had an openness. It was during that time that Draco revealed his sexual preferences to Severus, one night, over several glasses of brandy. It was that night that Draco had tried to kiss Severus. He _did_ find the Potions Master attractive. Severus was dark, powerful, intimidating, and strong; no spark, but definite attraction.  
  
As Draco had clumsily pushed himself on the much stronger man, Severus was quick to stop him with a well-placed dousing charm, explaining that while Draco was still a student, it was utterly inappropriate for them to have any sort of sexual contact. Forlorn and soaked to the skin, Draco had looked at Severus as squarely as possible for a drunken teenager, and asked if he could simply kiss him. He’d never kissed another wizard, and he had to know. Severus had obliged.  
  
The next day, they carried on as if it had never happen, as an unspoken agreement. Draco still felt comfortable talking about his problems and his attractions with Severus, who had calmly admitted to preferring the company of men. By the time Draco had graduated, the intensity of the war prevented him from pursuing Severus again. There was too much going on, and he was spending far too much time working directly with Harry. And becoming addicted to Harry.  
  
Now, five years later, Draco was standing outside Severus’s rooms, smelling of brandy, needing to talk, desperate for a fuck, and not sure if he’d be satisfied with either. He hesitated, then knocked.  
  
Several seconds passed before the heavy oak door swung open. In an instant, Severus sized him up, rolled his eyes, grabbed Draco by the upper arm, and pulled him into his suite.  
  
The slamming door echoed strangely through Draco’s alcohol-hazed mind as he was led bodily to the couch and pushed gently onto the soft leather. Severus sat down across from him in the armchair he preferred. Black eyes glittered at Draco, waiting for him to say something first.  
  
“Er... I’m drunk.”  
  
“I can see that. The logical question would be ‘Why are you drunk?’ Would you be so kind as to enlighten me?” Severus’s tone was amused, not accusatory.  
  
In a heartbeat, Draco launched into a drunken explanation of his infatuation with Harry... carefully leaving out the name. After several minutes of ranting in circles, Draco attempted to get to the point.  
  
“So... I’m sure this person is straight, but he can’t be, because I want him! It’s not fair, and seeing him is... is... it just is!” The room was blurry, his words were slurred, and Draco was sure that his final drink had been that one-too-many. “Don’t wanna ruin our friendship, but Merlin, I want to fuck him! Or let him fuck me! Or... something!”  
  
Severus, who had been silent and still all this time, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Very eloquently put, Mr Malfoy. Now, if I may ask, why have you not told Harry yourself?”  
  
 _That_ certainly pierced the alcoholic haze on Draco’s brain. “You... knew?”  
  
Severus laughed lightly. “Draco, I have known you since you were a child. For it to be any more obvious to me, you would have to walk around with a large, flashing sign on your back, bearing a down-arrow that reads, ‘Harry Potter, shag here.’”  
  
Despite the flush on his skin, Draco felt the blood drain a little from his face. With a groan, he flopped sideways onto the cushions. “Great. Bloody great. Now I’m drunk, frustrated, horny, _and_ obvious. Severus, would you do me a favour and fuck me hard enough that I forget?”  
  
“I don’t take advantage of friends who are not thinking clearly,” Severus said softly. “If it’s any consolation to you, I’m quite sure that Harry is unaware of the situation.”  
  
Draco perked up. “You think so?”  
  
Severus seemed to consider this. “Quite certain. So again, why do you not talk to him yourself?”  
  
Draco twisted to smush his face into the closest pillow. “B’cause he’s straight, an’ we’re friends, and I... I... forgot what I was saying. Bollocks.”  
  
With his face pressed into the pillow, he couldn’t see, but Severus’s voice was suddenly much closer. “I suggest that you get some sleep. And then, tomorrow, when you’re sober, you should talk to Harry.”  
  
“He’ll hate me.”  
  
“I think not, but you should probably see for yourself. Harry is not a judgmental person. He cares for you.”  
  
“Yeah... until he finds out I want to see him sprawled out naked, sweating, flushed like a virgin, and then do something about that condition. But he’s got himself a nice little witch – fuck buddies. Fuck. I’d like to be his fuck buddy. We’d fuck. Fuck a lot. Fucking great. Fuck...” Draco could feel his mind drifting again.  
  
Severus’s hand was on his shoulder. “Sleep now. Talk later. Goodnight, Draco.”  
  
Draco thought he said goodnight, but it probably came out like more of a mumble. He soon slipped into blissful, alcohol-hazed sleep.  
  
  
*********  
  
It took a moment for Draco to realize where he was. It was pitch dark, the bed was unfamiliar, and his head felt foggy. His mouth had the nasty, sticky feel that indicated he’d had far too much to drink before going to bed, which would explain why he couldn’t remember going to bed. _Severus must have put me here_ , he thought absently, and then the whole previous night came flooding back.  
  
He sat up, willing his head to stop pounding, and realized he was no longer wearing his robes, but instead a soft pair of silk pajamas, just a bit too large for him. He groped along the bedside table for his wand, and with it firmly in hand, he whispered, “ _Lumos_ ,” and the candle by the bedside came to life. Next to the candle was a glass full of what appeared to be water with a faint pink tint. Severus had been kind enough to provide a dose of his Hangover Buster.  
  
As Draco sipped the potion, which tasted refreshingly fruity with a slight sour hint, his head began to clear. As his head cleared, the reason he’d been drunk in the first place came flooding back. _Harry._ It was then that he noticed his erection was straining against the silk pajama bottoms. _Bollocks._  
  
He had to go back to his room, clean himself up, try to sleep a few more hours, and be ready to teach in the morning. The last thing he should do, if he wanted to impress Harry, would be to show up to teach with bloodshot eyes, mussed hair, and the dull wit of someone who’d slept too little. Of course, the bloodshot eyes would help scare the students, which was always fun.  
  
Draco was just reaching for his trousers, which had been neatly draped over the back of a chair, when he heard a muffled noise through the bedroom door. Voices. Severus was still awake? And who was he talking to?  
  
Feeling just a bit awkward for sneaking through Severus’s suite, Draco cast a silencing charm on the door – just in case – and pushed it open a crack. The hallway was empty, and lit dimly from the light coming from the sitting room around the corner. He pointed his wand back over his shoulder and whispered, “ _Nox!_ ” at the candle, then he took a deep breath and crept into the hall. It was definitely Severus’s voice, conversing with another very familiar voice. Draco got down on one knee, behind the Creeping Firewort plant for cover, and peeked through the leaves.  
  
“Harry, if only you knew how utterly ironic this was.” Severus was laughing softly.  
  
Harry, on the other hand, didn’t seem amused at all. “What the hell do you mean by that? It’s not funny! He’s _here_ , Sev. I can’t believe he’s actually here!”  
  
“Well, you practically sent for him; what’s so unbelievable about that?”  
  
Harry looked very flustered, which translated to “very sexy” in Draco’s mind. In fact, Harry looked downright stunning. His robes and vest were gone, his shirt was unbuttoned halfway down, and he was still wearing those unbelievable trousers. Draco’s already hard cock would have become much harder, were it not for the words that came out of Harry’s mouth next.  
  
“You should have seen the way he was looking at me! Like his eyes were undressing me or something. Feet up on the desk, hands _under_ his robes, and Merlin, the smirk! It was so... so...”  
  
“Sultry? Seductive?”  
  
Harry moaned. “Something like that.”  
  
Hidden where he was behind the plant, Draco’s heart was sinking into his stomach. Harry _had_ noticed Draco’s intentions, and judging by his tone of voice, it disgusted him.  
  
“Have you tried talking to him, Harry? You might be surprised by how accommodating Draco can be.”  
  
Harry moaned again. “He won’t understand!” He shifted in his seat, which caused his half-open shirt to reveal one beautifully toned pectoral muscle. Draco had to bite his tongue to keep it firmly in his mouth as Harry kept talking. “Sev, this has been going on since the war! Just like this! I thought time would change things, and I could invite him up here, and we could be friends, but nothing has changed! I miss him but –”  
  
“Talk to him.”  
  
“I can’t.”  
  
Severus raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me that Harry Potter, the man who fears nothing, can’t even face up to a conversation with one of his closest friends?”  
  
Harry whimpered and nodded.  
  
Draco dug his fingers into his face. Harry was straight. Draco had been obvious. Harry had been disgusted. Their friendship was ruined. Harry was never going to speak to him again. Harry was –  
  
Harry was climbing onto Severus’s lap, straddling him. Draco’s mouth fell open.  
  
Severus took Harry’s hands and held him back. “Harry, now is perhaps not the best time.”  
  
“Now is a perfect time. I just want to forget about it for a while.” He had pulled his hands from Severus’s grasp, and his fingers were slowly undoing the buttons of Severus’s shirt. “Come on, what are ‘fuck buddies’ for, right?”  
  
Draco wasn’t hearing this. Draco wasn’t seeing this. But here it was, right in front of him. The facts that Harry was indeed gay, was fucking Severus, and intended to gaily fuck Severus – all in Draco’s sight – left him completely numb with shock.  
  
His cock twitched.  
  
Well, almost completely numb.  
  
“Harry, I would really suggest that you speak to Draco.” Severus’s breathing was growing more rapid. “You might... ahhh... you might... OH!”  
  
Having finished with the buttons of Severus’s shirt, Harry had lunged forward and latched his teeth onto the man’s right nipple. The effect was instantaneous. Severus arched his back so hard he almost dumped Harry backwards off his lap onto the floor. In response, Harry grabbed his arms and continued to assault his nipple with a vengeance, while grinding down against the older man’s straining crotch.  
  
Severus gasped. He gritted his teeth. His eyes squeezed shut, then went wide. And then Harry backed off altogether, leaving Severus panting and glaring. “Impertinent child,” he growled.  
  
“You bet your arse. You have the most sensitive nipples of any man I’ve ever met.”  
  
“Will you talk to Draco tomorrow?”  
  
Harry nodded. “Will you shag me now?”  
  
Severus gave Harry a glare that would have turned most seventh-year students to a gibbering puddle of goo. Harry merely smiled sweetly before grinding down on Severus again.  
  
Draco couldn’t believe his eyes, but he also couldn’t shut them. He also found that he couldn’t move as he watched Harry lean back away from Severus as he unbuttoned his own shirt. The shirt came untucked from Harry’s trousers – Merlin, those bloody trousers – but Harry didn’t remove the shirt. Instead, he reached over and gently pulled Severus’s shirt away, leaving the man naked from the waist up.  
  
Draco knew Severus was strong, but he hadn’t expected to see the hard, lean body that had been hidden beneath that shirt. The man wasn’t beautiful by any means, but something about the angular shoulders, broad chest, and weather-worn skin added to the aura of rough strength. Draco didn’t have a moment to consider this further before Harry pinned Severus’s shoulders against the back of the couch and sealed his mouth over the left nipple. From the way Harry’s cheeks sunk in, he must have been sucking incredibly hard. Judging by Severus’s straining against Harry’s hands, the man loved it.  
  
While he watched, Draco’s hand found its way into his trousers. No, not his trousers. Severus’s silk pajamas. The thought made him twitch as he ran his thumb across his foreskin, then pushed it back to lightly stroke the head. He didn’t have the presence of mind to grip. He was too busy watching the show.  
  
Harry alternated from lapping the nipple with the flat of his tongue to sucking it to biting it. He released Severus’s shoulders to get better leverage, and made use of his free hands by teasing the unattended nipple. By now, Severus was shaking, eyes fluttered half-closed, mouth open to gasp for more air.  
  
Severus must have decided he’d been teased enough. In one swift movement, he grabbed Harry’s arms and flipped him over, planting Harry on the couch as Severus hovered dangerously over him. Harry started to reach for his own belt, but Severus stopped him.  
  
“Who gave you permission to do that, Harry?”  
  
Harry grinned mischievously. “Do I need permission, Sev?”  
  
“You never did learn to ask permission. Hands. Now.”  
  
Harry needed no further bidding. He put his hands over his head and gripped the back of the couch. His unbuttoned shirt fell away from his chest and stomach, and Draco got the first look at Harry’s bare torso he’d ever seen outside the hospital wing. Even from there, Draco could see the scars marking his pale skin. They were all known to him. The long, thin one just above and to the left of his navel where a slashing spell had almost laid him wide open. The shorter, darker one, set horizontally, just to the left of his breastbone, which had missed his heart by an inch. Simple dagger did that one. The remnants of the burn on his right collarbone. Just... Harry’s skin. Draco’s tongue rolled up in his watering mouth as he imagined tracing each of those scars, then tasting every other inch of his skin.  
  
Draco’s view of Harry was obscured as Severus leaned forward to unbuckle Harry’s belt. Harry thrust his hips upwards.  
  
“If you don’t exercise some patience, you might force me to restrain you.” Severus made his point by planting both hands on Harry’s hips and pressing down, using his weight to pin Harry to the couch. Harry responded by squirming under Severus’s weight, plainly enjoying the roughness. Severus chuckled. “Little slut.”  
  
“And you enjoy every minute of it,” Harry hissed.  
  
“Naturally.” Severus’s voice became a tone deeper. Colder. Commanding. “But there will be no more of this nonsense. You will not move until I tell you to move. You will comply with my orders without question. Agreed?”  
  
“Only if you include the phrase ‘spread your legs and relax’ somewhere in there.”  
  
Severus tilted his head forward. “Oh, you impudent child, there shall be little relaxing. But as we know –” Snape suddenly reached down and grabbed the front of Harry’s bulging trousers. “– you don’t care to relax by any definition of the word.”  
  
He squeezed the bulge, and Harry yelped.  
  
Draco grasped his cock in sympathy.  
  
Severus finished with the belt and buttons, then jerked and tugged the trousers down Harry’s hips. Harry wriggled to help, but a stern look from Severus and he stopped moving. As if to further make his point, Severus gave one strong pull, and the trousers slid halfway to Harry’s knees, exposing the fact that he wasn’t wearing any underwear. And –  
  
 _Oh Merlin, he’s shaved._  
  
Draco hooked his right index finger and bit down on the knuckle, while his left hand slid up and down his shaft awkwardly. He knew he shouldn’t just be watching like this – it felt dirty, somehow. He should be upset that Severus had kept this from him. He should be insanely jealous – and he was – but he was more stunned and aroused at the moment. He should run back to the bedroom and pretend he never saw it. He should be thrilled that Harry was indeed gay. He should pursue the issue tomorrow. In the very least, he should step out of the shadows and join in the fun. But Draco did none of these things as Harry’s trousers finally slipped past his knees.  
  
“Now, slide to the edge of the seat,” Severus growled.  
  
“Blow job, Sev?” Harry complied, but his tone was mildly mocking. “And here you liked to claim creativity as a strong point.”  
  
“Did I say you could speak?”  
  
“No, but since when have I been known to –”  
  
Harry was cut off as Severus clamped a hand over his mouth. “Shall I gag you?”  
  
“Mmmffph!”  
  
“What did you say?”  
  
Harry shook his head to clear the hand away from his mouth. “I said, ‘then you won’t get to hear me scream’.”  
  
For a moment, Severus seemed to consider this. “Actually, today, I should very much like to see you attempt _not_ to scream.”  
  
“Oh _really_ now... ooh...” Harry gasped as Severus’s fingertip slid across the tip of his erection. “And since when do you prefer the quiet type?”  
  
“Personally, I would simply relish watching you _attempt_ to exercise self-restraint. You amuse me when you struggle; more so when you struggle with yourself.”  
  
Harry shifted his grip on the back of the couch, but held on. He might be speaking disobediently, but he was actually doing exactly what he was told – he hadn’t moved from his self-inflicted pose. “You couldn’t _make_ me scream unless I wanted to.” The challenge hovered in the air.  
  
Then, Harry’s eyes went wide as Severus’s hand did something Draco couldn’t see.  
  
“That’s right, Harry,” he said in a lightly mocking voice. He slid backwards off the couch and settled on his knees in front of Harry. His left hand was on Harry’s knee, but his right hand was slowly, gently, stroking Harry’s balls, occasionally reaching a finger behind them to tease at the perineum. “Don’t scream. Don’t speak. Don’t even whimper.”  
  
The fingers moved further backwards, and Harry squirmed in response, tilting his hips, exposing everything. Severus continued to stroke softly. Harry opened his mouth as if to spout some nasty comment about the malicious teasing, but just as quickly he closed his eyes and bit down on his lip.  
  
Severus seized the opportunity to move unobserved, and ducked his head down. Draco thought he was going to take Harry’s cock into his mouth, but he moved right past it. For a split second, he hovered with his mouth over Harry’s balls, then made a sudden descent and – from what Draco could see – plunged his tongue below.  
  
Harry gasped in surprise, a gasp which quickly turned to a whimper as Severus set to work, massaging the perineum with his tongue. Harry struggled, but didn’t once move his hands from the back of the couch, and didn’t look away.  
  
Draco was amazed at how erotic he found the sight of the proud Potions Master on his knees in front of Harry Potter. Even more erotic was the fact that Severus was fully in control, or more specifically, that Harry was willingly giving full control. Harry didn’t seem like the submissive type, but then again, with Severus, Draco couldn’t imagine any other arrangement.  
  
“Oh fuck!” Harry suddenly lurched against his self-imposed restraint. “Oh fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck.”  
  
Severus raised his head. “In due time, yes.”  
  
Harry tried to glower, but the effect was lost in the flush on his face, his dilated pupils, his rapid, shallow breathing. There he was, laid out, his shirt half-off, his trousers around his ankles.  
  
Draco was grateful that Harry’s ragged breathing was louder than his own as he absorbed the sight. It was everything he’d imagined. He’d wanted to see Harry just like that, ruffled and panting, and then he’d wanted to –  
  
Without warning, Severus reached down and pushed one finger into Harry’s hole, eliciting a gasping sob from the young man. As Severus began to wriggle that finger, he rubbed around the outside with his thumb, and Harry was reduced to gibbering.  
  
Needing one hand for balance in his crouched hiding place, Draco released his own cock and reached around to the back of his trousers. He ran his finger over the tight ring of muscle, then slowly began prodding and pressing against the entrance, barely breaching the outer rim each time.  
  
Harry cried softly in disappointment as the finger in his arse was roughly withdrawn, but the cry quickly turned into an unintelligible string of muttered curses as Severus lunged forward to replace the finger with his tongue. He began rhythmically moving against Harry, as Harry’s cock bobbed against his forehead.  
  
Draco paced his own movements to match, imagining Harry’s talented tongue pressing against him, then his own tongue pressing into Harry. He imagined what Harry smelled like, tasted like. He imagined the feel of Harry’s shaved scrotum against his face, imagined taking those jewels into his mouth, one at a time. He imagined suddenly pulling away, shoving Harry down on the leather couch, and thrusting into him in one desperate stroke.  
  
 _Harry..._  
  
It took him a moment to realize he’d spoken out loud. It took him less time to realize that the sudden silence in the room meant he’d been heard. Feeling a flush of heat that had nothing to do with his arousal, he looked up to see two pairs of eyes glittering at him; an amused pair of almost-black eyes, and a shocked pair of green eyes.  
  
“ _Draco?_ ”  
  
“Oh _fuck._ ”  
  
“Now this _is_ an interesting development.”  
  
Draco stood, having no reason to hide anymore, although he didn’t move from behind the plant, hoping to save some shred of his dignity. “I... er... I’m sorry... I just heard something... and –”  
  
“What are _you_ doing here?” Harry asked in a rush. He’d finally removed his hands from the back of the couch, and was now using them to cover himself.  
  
Draco looked down at his feet in shame. Harry might be gay, but he obviously had no interest in Draco. That was almost worse. It _was_ worse. “I came down to... er... I’d had... I needed to talk to Severus earlier and –”  
  
“Draco,” Severus interjected firmly, “I think now would be a good time for that chat I mentioned.”  
  
Draco didn’t move.  
  
“What chat?” Harry asked warily.  
  
The amusement evident on Severus’s face only increased. “The same one I discussed with you.”  
  
“Oh,” Harry said dejectedly.  
  
Draco looked at Harry’s downcast face, and decided that it was best to rip this bandage off quickly. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Harry. Fuck, I thought you were straight anyway, but I couldn’t help it, I kept kinda hoping that maybe – but that’s ridiculous, I should have known, and I’m sorry for carrying on like that, and I don’t want to come between you and Severus, but maybe we could still be friends –”  
  
“DRACO!” Severus cut him off.  
  
“What?”  
  
Severus scowled at him, and inclined his head towards Harry. Draco looked.  
  
Harry’s face was screwed up in confusion. “What are you talking about, Draco?”  
  
Draco took a deep breath. “You noticed that I was... er... interested in you, and it offended you, and I’m sorry.”  
  
Harry stared at him incredulously for a long moment, and then the unthinkable happened.  
  
Harry laughed.  
  
Draco was almost ready to run off in shame, when he realized Harry wasn’t laughing at him. In fact, it sounded more like the release of pent-up stress. A lot of stress.  
  
“You were _worried_ about offending _me_? I thought you were inadvertently teasing me, not realizing what you were _doing_ to me,” Harry blurted out between choked laughing.  
  
Draco was trying to comprehend what he was hearing. “What I was _doing_ to you? You mean...?”  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
Draco stared up at the ceiling with open-mouthed disbelief. “What about when you complained that it had been going on since the war... and that you just wanted to be friends?”  
  
“That... you were listening?!” Harry groaned when Draco nodded. “I’ll take it you didn’t hear the whole conversation. Well... it’s like this... see... er... how do I put this?” He glanced up at Severus as if asking for help.  
  
Severus rolled his eyes. “Mr Potter is trying to explain to you that he has wanted you ever since the war, but he has been trying to get over it and just ‘be friends’ because he _assumed_ you were not interested.” He glanced sideways at Harry. “Would that be an accurate assessment?”  
  
Harry nodded meekly.  
  
Severus gave a satisfied... well... as close to a smile as one could hope from the man. “Draco, come here.”  
  
“I... er...” Draco stammered, which earned him a wilting glare from his old professor.  
  
With a long-suffering sigh, Severus sat down on the couch next to Harry – whose trousers were still conspicuously around his ankles – and grabbed Harry by the upper arms. Harry squeaked in surprise as he was forcibly turned in place so that his back was held tight against Severus, and his arms were pinned to his sides.  
  
And there he was. Half-undressed, exposed, flushed, and panting. His left leg was just off the edge of the couch, and his right leg was hooked so that his thighs were spread, despite the trousers still holding his ankles together. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, playing shadows against his sinewy torso. Severus was holding him... but he was holding him _for_ Draco.  
  
Again, Severus said, “Draco. Come here.”  
  
Draco wasn’t sure how he managed to move his feet, but he stepped out from behind his hiding place, feeling more exposed than Harry looked. He stopped in the middle of the room.  
  
“Now Draco, you can’t do much good from there,” Severus admonished. Then a wicked smile curled the corners of his lips. “Nor can you do much good in those oversized pajamas.”  
  
In Severus’s grasp, Harry wriggled, and a small whimper escaped him. Draco looked from Harry’s straining cock to Severus’s face. Black eyes drilled into him. “I would suggest that you remove some of that excess fabric.”  
  
The suggestion might as well have been the Imperious Curse. Draco grabbed the bottom of his – Severus’s – shirt and ripped it up and over his head. Severus nodded in approval.  
  
“And the bottoms.”  
  
The silk fell to the floor, leaving Draco in his boxers.  
  
Severus coughed. The boxers fell. Harry whimpered again.  
  
“Now Draco, sit down. There you are, right at his feet.”  
  
The leather was cool against the skin of Draco’s arse, and he sat awkwardly, not sure what to do next. He wanted to jump Harry and take him in a rage of passion. He wanted to hide from Severus’s penetrating stare. He wanted Severus to hold him down so Harry could take him. He wanted to suck Harry off. He wanted Severus to take him while Harry sucked him off. The result was that he continued to sit there awkwardly.  
  
“Draco,” Severus’s cool voice continued, “perhaps it would be useful to remove Harry’s shoes.”  
  
Draco jumped to comply, happy to have someone making the decision for him.  
  
“Good. That’s good. And now the trousers. I believe they might get in the way.”  
  
The trousers were tossed aside, leaving Harry completely sprawled open. Severus nodded his approval and shifted his grip on Harry. He wrapped one arm completely across Harry’s chest, and his other hand disappeared somewhere behind Harry. After a moment, Harry jerked in surprise; his eyes rolled and his head tipped back as he squirmed weakly. Draco looked down, and could just barely see one of Severus’s fingers buried in Harry’s arse.  
  
The older man’s eyes glittered. “Do you like what you see, Draco?”  
  
Draco nodded.  
  
“Of course you do. Crawl up between Harry’s knees here. He’ll like that. Run your hand along his thigh, yes, like that. It’s smooth. His balls are smooth too. He doesn’t shave them often, but he did the day you arrived. I wonder why that is.  
  
Draco swallowed convulsively at the thought that Harry might have done that, just for him. His hands were on Harry’s inner thigh, but his eyes were taking in every inch of Harry’s cock and the deliciously shorn balls beneath.  
  
“You want to touch his balls. Do it. Ah, be gentle. Perhaps you should use your tongue. There, yes, you’ll have a much better angle from your hands and knees. Don’t just lick them. Suck them properly now, Draco.”  
  
On either side of Draco’s face, Harry’s thighs were quivering as Draco thoroughly sucked his balls, and as Severus continued to wiggle one, then two fingers in his arse. The scents were incredible – Harry’s scents; his sweat mingling with the other musky scents Draco had only imagined. Harry’s cock was an inch from his eyes, but Draco hadn’t touched it yet. With Harry’s balls in his mouth, and that erection encompassing his entire vision –  
  
“He has an incredible cock, doesn’t he?”  
  
Draco whimpered around his mouthful.  
  
“You’ve wanted that cock for a long time, haven’t you?”  
  
Draco moaned, and Harry shuddered.  
  
“Wanted to touch it? Taste it? Wrap your – _I did not yet give you permission_.”  
  
Draco sat back as though he’d been shocked. Harry was panting and flushed – obviously, he’d wanted Draco’s mouth as much as Draco had wanted to give it. But Severus was glowering fiendishly.  
  
“Now Draco, in my parlour, there are rules. Consider it my... my due, for being such an accommodating liaison. I do not demand blind obedience. That is far too dull for my tastes. However, I do request that you do not act before my say-so. Do we have an understanding?”  
  
Draco nodded, feeling much like he was back in school, being lectured in Severus’s private office his third year for the Dementor stunt. He almost lowered his eyes before he remembered he was an adult amongst adults. “Yes, Severus.”  
  
Severus’s eyes narrowed. “Just to ensure that you remember...” He pulled his wand from somewhere and muttered a charm under his breath. Something flew across the room and landed in his hand. “Turn around, Draco. Stay on your hands and knees, right here, where I can reach you. Very good. Harry, show Mr. Malfoy how clever you are with a butt plug.”  
  
Draco’s eyes widened and his breath hitched. He was nervous, but he’d never been so aroused in his life. Even if Severus hadn’t said anything, he would have known it was Harry’s hands parting his arse cheeks. Harry’s fingers stroking his hole, slick with lubricant, working to loosen the tight ring of muscle.  
  
“Draco, you seem tense. Relax. Harry is quite proficient at this.”  
  
Draco was going to make a sharp remark about how “relaxing” wasn’t something that seemed to happen around here, but all that came out was a choked whine as Harry slipped a second finger into his arse. His own shallow breathing mixed with the sound of Harry’s soft panting. Suddenly, the fingers were withdrawn and something blunt and slick was pressed against his hole. Harry laid one hand at the base of his spine as he drove the plug forward. It twisted inside him, brushing past his prostate, and Draco almost collapsed.  
  
Behind him, Severus was chuckling darkly as Harry continued to prod and tug the base of the plug, not removing it or pushing it further in, but just changing the pressure in place. Draco’s eyes had started to water by the time the assault on his arse stopped, but the plug was not removed.  
  
“Excellent work, Harry. Draco, you may turn around.”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
Moving caused the butt plug to press against his insides at different angles, which was almost as maddening as Harry’s manipulations. Hoping he was doing the right thing, he dropped down to where he’d been before, with his mouth ready and waiting to take Harry’s cock. Severus’s fingers were still pumping into Harry’s arse, and Draco suspected that hadn’t stopped the entire time he’d been looking the other way. Draco closed his eyes and opened them again slowly, looking up at Severus for permission. Severus nodded.  
  
He tired to take Harry’s cock in one swallow, but Harry was indeed quite impressive, and Draco realized this as he gagged and pulled back.  
  
“Draco, there’s no need to be so greedy. Start slowly. Pull back his foreskin – there, like that. Taste him. A proper mouthful. Does he taste good? Give him a taste of himself. Yes, that’s it.”  
  
Draco crawled up carefully, his body hovering over Harry’s, not quite touching. He paused in front of Harry’s face. Harry’s eyes were dark, with narrow rings of green around wide irises, partially lidded, complimenting the dark flush on his cheeks. Their breaths mingled together, and Draco was sure his heart froze for a moment. Then, Harry lunged forward against Severus’s arms and seized Draco’s mouth with his own.  
  
There was an explosion somewhere in Draco’s brain. _Harry is kissing me. Actually, Harry is raping my mouth with his._ The details didn’t matter. The tastes of Harry’s cock and Harry’s mouth mixed on Draco’s tongue, and the rest of the world disappeared. Until Severus pulled Harry back.  
  
“Just a taste. That’s quite enough. Now, Draco, tend to Harry’s cock. Just the head first. Push your tongue into that little groove beneath the head – he loves that. Your hands shouldn’t be idle. Massage his balls a bit. Good. Now, take a bit more of his length. Press your tongue against him as you come back up. It makes him shudder. Deeper. Mmm, yes, you should take the whole thing now.”  
  
Draco struggled between his natural gag reflex and the fact that he wanted as much of Harry as he could humanly fit into his throat. He sucked and swallowed at the intrusion pressing against the back of his throat, using his tongue as Severus directed him. Underneath him, Harry was breathing faster, sweating, jerking his hips up to meet Draco’s mouth.  
  
“Sev, I... I’m...”  
  
“Draco, stop.”  
  
Shocked by the sudden command, Draco obeyed without hesitation. Harry groaned miserably as Severus snaked a hand around and tugged down on Harry’s sack. “Now, now, Harry. We mustn’t cut short the fun quite yet. You and Draco have been waiting quite a long time for this. I believe you ought to take a turn tending to his needs. Don’t you think so?”  
  
Harry nodded enthusiastically.  
  
Severus laughed dryly. “Incredible how much more incorrigible you are when nobody else is present.” He sent a wry glance at Draco. “I believe he’s quite intent on impressing you, Mr Malfoy.”  
  
“I... I’m impressed.”  
  
Severus nodded. “Well then, Harry, see to Draco’s needs.”  
  
Harry pounced. Draco found himself pinned backwards against the far arm of the couch; pinned by the hands on his shoulders, and the mouth crushing his own. He gasped sharply as Harry released his mouth, realizing that he was becoming light-headed from lack of air. Harry locked gazes with him.  
  
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” Harry whispered.  
  
“Maybe.” Draco swallowed. “I think we should trade stories. Later.”  
  
Harry nodded once, and without hesitation, dropped down.  
  
Somewhere between the mouth on his cock and the hands playing with the toy lodged in his arse, the world hazed out in a soft red buzz. He was vaguely aware of Severus’s voyeuristic gaze, which – to his amazement – only increased the buzzing. One coherent thought managed to pierce his personal fog: _How did I ever think Harry was innocent?_  
  
The pressure was building. Everything was a hot rush. Draco gritted his teeth. And then he felt cool air against his moist prick.  
  
Draco cried out in dismay and opened his eyes (which he hadn’t realized were closed) to see Severus restraining a squirming Harry by the back of his collar. Immediately, Draco’s hand went to grasp his cock, but Severus shook his head, and Draco wasn’t sure why, but he obeyed. This wasn’t fair! He wasn’t sure if he was furious, dismayed, or confused, but he sure as hell was frustrated.  
  
“Severus, are you trying to _kill_ me?”  
  
“Of course not.” He sounded amused. “I’m actually trying to help.”  
  
 _What sort of sadistic bullshit is this?!_ “Fuck.”  
  
“Well, that’s the idea, isn’t it?” There was a knowing glint in Severus’s eye that made Draco slightly nervous. “You were drunk, and before you completely passed out, you talked in your delirium. Incredible how our deepest fantasies come out when we don’t intend it?”  
  
Draco’s mouth had suddenly gone dry. “What did I say?”  
  
“Aside from the fact that you found me strong, and darkly attractive?”  
  
Draco groaned. Harry squirmed.  
  
Severus took the younger men’s reactions in stride. “You said you were desperate for Harry, and that if you ever had him, you’d be so overwhelmed you wouldn’t know what to do first. You wanted to suck him, and to have him suck you. You wanted his mouth, his skin, his neck.”  
  
He was listening to Severus, but Draco’s eyes were on Harry. Harry was thrusting his hips towards Draco in small jabs, straining half-heartedly against Severus’s grip, fingers digging into the leather seat. Severus didn’t seem to notice as he continued.  
  
“You wanted him half-dressed, looking like a flustered schoolboy. I believe you mentioned a time when he came back from a mission and only managed to get himself half-undressed before falling asleep, sprawled on the couch, and you had to leave the room to keep from jumping him. You wanted to do everything to him when you got him, but you didn’t think you’d be able to hold back. You wanted it to last, but you couldn’t wait. So, consider this a favour. Come here, Draco. Up on your knees.”  
  
Draco found himself kneeling between Harry’s legs again, and Severus placed a tube in Harry’s hand. The man was looking at Draco, but speaking to Harry. “I know you like it rough, but really, do use enough lubricant on him.”  
  
Severus loosened his grip on Harry, who took Draco’s cock and smeared a thin coat of lube over the entire length. Draco was shaking, trying not to push himself into Harry’s hands. He knelt perfectly still until Harry stopped, and remained there, breathing hard, not sure exactly how he was going to be allowed to proceed.  
  
“Harry, slide down a bit. Feet in.” Severus slipped out from beneath Harry and moved back around to sit on the arm of the couch behind Draco. “Draco, he’s yours.”  
  
It felt surreal as Draco lowered himself against Harry, arms braced to either side, holding himself up. Harry’s hands reached down to line him up, and when he felt himself brush against the pucker of skin and muscle, he couldn’t hold back anymore.  
  
Harry’s face screwed up in a grimace of pain mixed with pleasure as Draco slid into him. Draco meant to move slowly, but Harry suddenly grabbed him by the arse and pulled. Draco crashed forward into him, and Harry gave a muffled cry and bit into Draco’s shoulder.  
  
Legs wrapped around Draco’s waist, locking him against Harry. Harry’s prick was pressed against his stomach, arms and legs clinging to him desperately, and Harry’s breath hissed in his ear.  
  
“ _It’s about fucking time._ ”  
  
Draco shuddered. He withdrew slowly, almost all the way, and pressed back in. Harry responded with a tight whining sound and locked his legs tighter against Draco’s arse, drawing him in completely.  
  
Draco began to move against Harry, occupying his mouth with every inch of Harry’s neck he could reach. The hands and legs wrapped around him guided his actions, urging him faster. He felt almost as if Harry was controlling him, drawing him in and out. A hand prodded down the crevice of his arse and began manipulating the plug in his hole, and it took Draco a moment to realize that it was Severus.  
  
 _The man doesn’t miss a thing, does he?_  
  
Assaulted by sensation from all directions, Draco quickly reached the edge. “Harry, I’m going to –”  
  
“I want it.” Harry pushed Draco almost all the way out, then gave a mighty pull, slamming him back in, and clenching around him.  
  
Draco cried out, dropping down onto Harry and clinging to him as he rode out the waves of his orgasm. Distantly, he was aware of Harry’s own cries, and a sticky wetness on his stomach.  
  
When the buzzing in his ears finally faded, Draco was lying on Harry, still inside him, head tucked against Harry’s neck. Harry’s arms and legs were still locked around him, and the last thing in the world he ever wanted to do was to move from that spot.  
  
“We have to teach in the morning,” Harry mumbled.  
  
Draco moaned and snuggled tighter.  
  
“And we should probably clean up,” he said into Draco’s hair.  
  
“Mmm, not letting you move.”  
  
There was an exasperated sigh, and the creak of leather as Severus stood. “Boys. Here.” A blanket dropped over them, and a moment later, Draco felt the tingle of a cleaning charm. “I shall inform your morning class that the session is cancelled. Seventh-year Slytherins and Gryffindors. They’ll be pleased. They’ve been taking bets since Draco arrived on how long it would take the two of you to ‘ _hook up_ ’.”  
  
At that, Draco raised his head. “You... they... _they realized_?”  
  
Severus smirked. “Draco,” he said with smooth, deliberate tones, “You and Harry are the only ones who didn’t seem to realize. And now –” He extinguished the torches with his wand. “– Goodnight.”  
  
Severus’s chuckling could be heard echoing down the hall.  
  
Draco’s attention returned to Harry as the warm body beneath him shifted. Feeling strangely shy and exposed, Draco pulled himself out of Harry’s arse, eliciting a soft moan from his newfound lover. He started to pull away, but Harry’s arms wrapped tighter around him.  
  
“Where do you think you’re going?”  
  
Draco startled slightly at the unreadable tone of Harry’s voice. “Well, nowhere. Harry?”  
  
“Mmm?”  
  
“You... and Severus... and him giving you orders... gah, what am I saying? It was hot... incredibly hot... but are you –”  
  
Harry’s chest rumbled low and warm with a soft laugh. “We’re friends, and the only two gay men on staff here. And as for him giving me orders... it started as a game, and we enjoyed it. He’s good at it, isn’t he?”  
  
“He is.” Draco paused. “He gave you to me?”  
  
“Mmmhmm. But don’t let it go to your head.” Harry reached up and traced Draco’s jaw with his tongue. “He taught me a lot of stuff. You really think he’s attractive?”  
  
“In a strange, rough-edged sort of way, yes. Not like you.”  
  
“I think he’d still like to play with us. Maybe he could teach you some new tricks.” A hand suddenly poked at the butt plug, which Draco had almost forgotten was still embedded in his arse.  
  
Draco jolted and felt his cock twitch. “Er, yeah, tricks.”  
  
Harry laughed again. “Goodnight, Draco.”  
  
“Goodnight? But –”  
  
“I said goodnight... but I wouldn’t suggest you sleep too deeply.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Harry removed his glasses, folded them, and reached back to place them on the end table. “See you in the morning.” He closed his eyes and lay back.  
  
Slowly, Draco relaxed and rested his head on Harry’s chest, listening to the faint sound of water running in Severus’s shower in the background, and the closer, steady thrumming of Harry’s heart, but he didn’t close his eyes, and he was sure Harry wasn’t asleep. Besides, it was still several hours until dawn, and they had a lot of catching up to do.

 

~FIN~


End file.
